Author's Note: Long time, no update. I apologize for the lag. I was busy trying to finish up college and do a multitude of other things and didn't have time to sleep, let alone write! But college is done, and now it's time to update. So I hope you forgive me and enjoy the chapter! Reviews are most welcome.

Chapter 22: Oh, Love (Éomer POV)

I knew, without a doubt, that I loved her.

I loved the princess who would stand tall at formal occasions, who had the strength of will to accept challenges and even lived for them. I loved the princess whose quick mind and bright eyes made each word she spoke seem intelligent, thoughtful, and true. I loved the woman who found joy in learning new things, be it translations of ancient prose or ways to calm a horse. I loved the woman who did not seem to be afraid of showing her true self to me – inquisitive, passionate, caring, kind, amazing. I loved her completely, and I knew in my heart that I could not live without her.

I knew I wanted to wake up to find her lying next to me, to start every day looking into those grey eyes and knowing regardless of how long the day was, I would return to her side at night and be at peace.

I loved her. And I knew I wanted her to be my wife, and my queen. But would she accept whatever proposal I offered her?

She had blushed when I told her I planned to tell my advisors that I wanted to court her. I could only imagine her reaction to the words "I love you" and it made me giddy.

"You seem distracted," I heard a voice say behind me. I was quickly drawn out of my daydreams to find Imrahil, my beloved's father, in front of me. I felt a bit embarrassed that I had been thinking about his daughter.

"I have an important meeting with my council soon," I replied. Imrahil nodded and I noticed the similarities between father and daughter, most notably the same eyes and hair that their relatives from Minas Tirith also seemed to share.

"I gathered it was something important, as I've called to you several times and not received a reply," he said, smiling.

"Very important," I added.

"You have done well so far, I see," Imrahil said. "I could tell when we first met that you were both a great warrior and a great leader."

"I think that my skills as a leader are nowhere near as sharp as my other skills," I told him. "Your daughter has contributed greatly to my improvement." I paused, realizing how open-ended that seemed. "As a leader."

"Indeed, were Lothíriel born a man, what a force she would have been. But I do not think that her sex has hindered her at all. She has her own attributes that make her worthy indeed."

I wondered whether I should reveal my plans to her father, so that I could receive his permission first, when a newcomer spoke before me.

"I see you are singing my virtues to any eligible man again, Father," Lothíriel said, sweeping in and giving her father a small kiss on his cheek. Imrahil laughed.

"Singing the virtues of a most virtuous woman can hardly be considered a crime," he replied. Lothíriel smiled.

"Be careful, Father; we should not put ideas in the King's head," she said, flashing a smile at me. My mouth went dry and I felt heat rise to my cheeks but luckily, Imrahil turned his attention to this daughter.

"And what are your plans for the day?" he asked. Lothíriel, dressed in white linen much the style of Éowyn, was holding a basket.

"The elves wish to spend some time outside – it is such a lovely day! – and I shall join the Queen," she told him. "Will you join us?"

"I fear not, as your brother has sent me several dispatches of the most urgent manner to which I must respond. In fact, I shall take my leave now and hope to see you again before the banquet tonight." Imrahil bowed to me. "Éomer." He kissed Lothíriel on the cheek. "Lothíriel."

"And you, Éomer? Will you not join us?" Arwen said, approaching our small party.

"I have a meeting with my council but, if it finishes early, I shall try my best to spend some time outside. Being King certainly restricts my freedom."

"Estel stuffers the same fate," Arwen said sympathetically. "I hope you will be able to join us."

"Do you need any provisions?" I asked. Lothíriel shook her head.

"Éowyn took care of everything. We have managed to pry her away from her beloved for a time to enjoy the fresh air," she said. "But we should not tarry. I hope your work does not drag on so that you may have some freedom."

"I hope so too," I said, and bowed to the ladies as they departed. The meeting was all the more reason to stand my ground at council today.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you," I said. I was trying as hard as I could to control my excitement, but it was threatening to burst. "I have decided that I would like to court the Lady Lothíriel of Dol Amroth."

Half the table smiled. The other half frowned. My heart sank. No one spoke.

"Does this not make anyone happy?" I asked desperately, feeling my joy fade away as something else replaced it. It wasn't fear, it wasn't sadness – it was nervousness.

"My Lord." An advisor rose from the far end of the table. His name was Dygol, and he was from the Westfold. His kin had ridden with Eorl to Gondor. He had been an advisor to Theoden, and a rather quiet one at that.

"Councilor Dygol – you wish to share something?" I said, sitting. He nodded.

"I can see quite plainly that the young princess of Dol Amroth is quite the lady," he said. "She is beautiful, and stories that float around Edoras tell of her immense strength in the face of challenges, as well as her unconventional role at her father's court."

I felt my temper flair up as he characterized Lothíriel's role as unconventional , but I merely nodded. He was right – it was a rather special case.

"This lady is capable, and would be a very good queen – were it not for the troubles that Rohan has gone through."

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"My Lord, if I may continue?" Dygol asked. I nodded, unsure of what direction this was going to take.

"Rohan has been devastated by war, brought to this land by our supposed ally Saruman, and by an incredible loss of life here and in Gondor. In addition, for the past several years of your uncle's reign, there has been unrest in various parts of both the Westfold as well as the Eastfold."

"Yes," I said. I glanced at Eothain, and saw that I should not speak.

"Perhaps, instead of strengthening an alliance to Gondor that will already become strong with your sister's marriage, you should look to your own land, and find a suitable partner here."

"I understand what you're saying, Councilor," I said, "but I don't necessarily agree with it. Are you telling me that you wish to arrange a marriage, as opposed to having me pick my own bride?"

An older advisor, one who served with Théoden and Thengel, spoke. "Sometimes, Éomer, the responsibilities of a king take precedence over his own desires."

I was shocked. Instead of approving the bride I had chosen for myself – because I had to face it, I was planning on marrying her – they decided they would interfere. I knew they wanted me married…but had they been planning this all along?

"Have you found a suitable woman already?"

"Yes. We will introduce her to you tonight."

"I see." My jaw was tight, my mind racing. "Is there any more business to discuss? If not, I shall take my leave."

With business concluded, I left the chamber and made my way to the stables as fast as possible. Behind me, Elfhelm cried out.

"Éomer! Where are you headed?"

"I need to go for a ride," I called over my shoulder. Soon, Firefoot was ready and the six of us – my two friends and their horses – were riding across the plains.

We stopped at a small stream west of Edoras, and they allowed me to pace in silence, digesting my thoughts. What had gone wrong? I knew the reasons, but was I doing something wrong?

I sighed. "Maybe I was wrong."

"What?" Eothain and Elfhelm said simultaneously.

"Maybe I should consider this girl, since my advisors seem to think-"

"Éomer. Stop. Do not continue. Do you realize what you're saying?" Elfhelm said forcefully. "You are considering listening to someone's advice for once."

"We maybe they are right!" I snapped. I felt so conflicted.

"Do you think they are right?" Eothain asked. "In your heart, do you feel that duty to your country means always listening to a gaggle of old men?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

"First, I have to ask where this sudden desire to court Lothíriel comes from," Elfhelm said. "I thought you decided there would be no courtship."

"That was before I kissed her. Now that I've kissed her many times, I…" I struggled to tell my friends what I was thinking. There were primal reasons for my decision – desire, passion – but also love. Love that I felt strongly every time I was near Lothíriel. Love, the most overwhelming feeling of completion, found in the form of Lothíriel.

Love that my advisors were asking me to push away.

"Look," Elfhelm said, "I understand where they are coming from. The desire to have you marry this girl is strong and it makes sense. Rohan has been so restless for so long, perhaps the marriage would be suitable. But then, you would have to watch Lothíriel return to Dol Amroth, and marry someone else. Some nobleman or son of privilege, or a solider. You would attend functions in Gondor and see her on the arm of some other man."

"Someone like Kel," I said. I remembered how I felt the one time I saw him dancing with her and gritted my teeth. "You make me sound so possessive."

I looked up and saw the party of elves near a patch of trees. They lounged in the shade, and I could only hear the distant murmur of voices. I saw the figure of Lothíriel, her white dress shining like a beacon in the midday sun, and I sighed.

"Honestly, though, Éomer – I wouldn't want to see the woman I love married to another man," Eothain said.

"If you could find a woman to have you," Elfhelm quipped. "I don't mean to make it sound possessive…I'm just making a point. You know you couldn't stand to let her go."

It was true. Letting go of Lothíriel, letting her marry someone else, would be the hardest thing I could ever do. I was so attuned to her that I could not imagine being without her. Which meant that I could not marry another, because I could not stand someone other than her.

"You're right," I said. "I cannot lose her."

"Of course he's right!" Eothain said. "She's by far the most beautiful woman in Gondor – it would be a shame. I have to say, Éomer, you did choose wisely."

I laughed. "It's more than her looks that draw me to her, my friend. She's…amazing. I have never felt the way I do around her. And I will not lose her. I am King, right? Doesn't being King mean that I'm allowed to make decisions I think best for the country?"

"It does," Elfhelm said.

"Then obviously I cannot marry anyone other than Lothíriel. Not only would she make a splendid queen but I would go insane without her. So for Rohan's sake…I think we have to fight, gentlemen."

"Fight? Us? How did we get involved?"

"You cannot allow me to buckle under the pressure they'll put on me."

"I swear to you, my King and Sovereign and my friend, that I will beat you upside your head if you do not keep your wits about you," Eothain said. Elfhelm nodded.

In the distance, the murmur picked up to shouts and we glanced over to see two riders on horses take off across the plain. Arwen and Lothíriel raced each other on their steeds, hair flying behind them in the wind and I realized neither woman had saddled their horses. Rarely did I ride bareback, and from the look on Eothain and Elfhelm's faces, the peculiarity of the situation had struck them as well.

"Perhaps it has something to do with elven blood," Elfhelm suggested, and we watched as Arwen took the lead. Lothíriel soon began to catch up and, in a burst of speed, passed Arwen. Looking closer, I determined that Lothíriel was steering her horse using her legs only – the mark of a rider with much skill and experience.

"Éomer, you need to marry this girl," Eothain said. "It's like she was born to be Queen of the Rohirrim."

I laughed, the riders doubled back and Lothíriel won the race. But as she dismounted, she fell to the ground. Instantly, I headed towards my horse – and to the picnicking party.

"Your Majesty!" Amrothos cried out as we drew near. "Did you see that race? My sister is quite the rider, though she's humble about it."

Lothíriel was standing - but leaning heavily on her brother - and sheepishly looked up at me. "I did not know we had observers beyond our party," she said. "That makes me even more embarrassed."

"I saw you fall," I said, and Lothíriel nodded.

"Over there – the ground has caved in. I managed to step right into it, and twist my foot. I should be fine," Lothíriel said, but there was a look of small discomfort in her face as she tried to put her weight down on the injured leg.

"I can look at it, if you would let me," I said. Lothíriel nodded.

"That might be a good idea. I wouldn't want to go running to the healers for nothing."

I dismounted, and awkwardly approached Lothíriel, conscious of those in the party observing this interlude. She daintily lifted her skirt up as I sank down to my knee. Fighting to keep heat from my cheeks, I took her foot into my hand to observe it and, thankfully, did not have to observe long.

"It looks as if it is swollen. We are returning to Edoras and can take you to the healer."

Lothíriel looked over at Amrothos briefly, and then nodded. "That might be best."

I mounted Firefoot again, and leaned down to help Lothíriel on as well. Soon I was cradling the princess in my arms as we rode to Edoras.

"This is a little ridiculous," she said softly, and I laughed. I pulled her closer and she sighed.

"I really hope it is not hurt too badly, because that would be a terrible inconvenience."

"I hope it is nothing as well, for whom else am I to dance with tonight?" I teased, then stopped when I realized there would be other ladies for me to dance with at the banquet.

"Your guards will find it suspect if you hold me so close," she whispered, and as we neared the gate I loosened my grip on the Princess.

Lothíriel was heavier than I would imagine for a girl of her stature, but not so heavy that it was impossible for me to carry her into the healer's quarters. The old woman – older than Thengel, my uncle used to joke – quickly whisked me back out again into the hallway.

Should I wait? Should I go?

"She's always been frightened of healers," Faramir said, approaching from just beyond my peripheral vision.

"She fell down dismounting," I told him. He nodded.

"I know. One of your marshal's told me. You were in a bit of a rush."

"Why is she frightened of healers? She worked as one in Minas Tirith," I asked him. Faramir shook his head.

"It's not the healers she's really afraid of – it's the injury. It's out of her control. Lothíriel, for all her carefree tendencies, doesn't like things to slip from her grasp. A broken leg, a cut – those are things she cannot help herself. It's a flaw in her character, but not one that diminishes her value."

I nodded, digesting what her cousin said. Lothíriel always appeared to be in control of herself, whether in the heat of a kiss or in the heat of a decision. Losing control would be difficult…unthinkable…

"I will wait for her. You probably have business to attend to," Faramir said. He sat on a bench nearby, and gave me a look that seemed to say Less chance of rumours starting should you leave now…

"I will you see later," I said as I took my leave. I could only hope that Lothíriel's leg was alright, to save me from whatever misery my advisors had cooked up.

Lothíriel was not well by the time of the banquet.

"Sprained her ankle," Elfhelm told me. We stood in the hallway, awaiting the point where I was supposed to come into the hall and start the feasting.

"Great," I sighed.

"They found a girl." Elfhelm looked unhappy.

"They did, did they?" I replied, feeling my stomach drop.

"She looks vaguely familiar…like someone I've met before," my friend said as trumpets started to sound in the hall. I glanced at him before turning to exit.

The hall was filled with people and food was piled high on the tables. I saw smiling faces, and soon the feast was underway.

My eyes looked through the hall and settled on Lothíriel, leaning heavily on Amrothos. She held a goblet, like the rest of the crowd, and the silver of her dress made her eyes shine. I made sure not to linger too long, instead finding Dygol on the other side of the room, next to a woman.

She was small and slight with blonde hair the color of gold glinting in the light of the candles and dark blue eyes. She was fair, but nothing compared to Lothíriel.

I raised my goblet, and the feast began.

Her name was Nalyn, and she was from the Northern part of Rohan. And as I took her hand, I glanced up to find Lothíriel watching me intently from a seat at a nearby table. A look of pain, unrelated to her injury, passed through my love's eyes.

But it was only her eyes. Her face was the same impassive face that I had seen when I first met her, but had not seen since. It reminded me of a wall, guarding its mistress' precious heart from those who sought to destroy it.

I could not stop from cringing at the hurt on her face, and looked away.

"My lord? Are you alright?" The voice was soft but not melodic, and looking down at the face of the woman I danced with, I realized she was no different from any woman of Rohan.

When I looked over again, Lothíriel was gone.

I did not see her the rest of the evening.

I danced with the girl, and I danced with Éowyn and other ladies, but never with Lothíriel. She had disappeared after dinner, evaporated into thin air.

As the evening drew to a close, I found that I needed to escape the confines of the hall. I was unhappy, and I need a break.

I found a shrouded figure on the steps of Meduseld, looking out at the night sky. A shawl was wrapped around her shoulders and she sat, face upturned, trying to read something in the ageless stars.

"Why did you leave the celebration?" I asked.

"No reason," Lothíriel said. She did not hide her bitter tone.

I walked over to her, unsure of how I should act near her. The conversation this afternoon had upset me more than I would admit, and I was worried about what I should say. I could apologize, I could explain...I didn't know. I sank down onto a step near her.

"How is your leg?"

"It hurts, but wine dulls the pain," she said.

"How did you get out here?"

"I'm not totally incapacitated, Éomer," Lothíriel responded coldly.

We remained there in silence for a moment before I spoke again.

"You're very quiet tonight, Lothíriel," I said.

"I have a lot of things on my mind," she replied. There was another long moment of silence that dragged on an eternity, the two of us not looking at each other but instead into the distance, an arm length away.

"I heard there was a confrontation this afternoon with your advisors," she said.

"There was."

"Advisors are not worth the titles," she said contemptuously. She stood up, and reached for a staff I had not seen nearby. With the staff, she proceeded to hobble away from me. Had she heard?

"Lothíriel! Wait," I called out. She stopped but did not turn around to face me.

"They said something to you about me," she said softly. "That is why you were dancing with that girl."

"In my defense, you were unavailable."

"I know."

"Lothíriel," I said, approaching her only to find her turning around to face me. Tears threatened to flood out of her eyes.

I was going to lose her.

"I do not want your pity. I do not know what went on behind closed doors, but I will not be used to prove something to advisors. I understand that the duties of royalty often is more important than own desires." She paused and took a deep breath. "Do not tell me here, tonight, that you love me. Because I do not know if I can take that much heartbreak. I know you will have to marry for your kingdom, not for love, and I know that your advisors detest another marriage to Gondor. And I do not even have the right to assume that you love me, or wish to marry me. But if the thought crossed your mind – please. Keep it there."

"Lothíriel," I said, stepping forward, but she turned away. I angrily cursed the gods who placed us in these positions, the advisors who wanted to control my life, and myself. I had placed the person I loved in so much pain...how? "I know I am bound to my duties. But do not think that I do not care for you-"

"Éomer," she said pleadingly, her voice cracking as she struggled to maintain the façade of composure. "Please…"

I took her face in my hands, studying the grey eyes full of tears she would fight to keep inside, all because I might break her heart tonight. But I would not. I would not do anything to see her in agony.

"Do not worry about hurting me," she said softly. "I will not break."

"I will not hurt you and I will not give you up," I said, leaning in to kiss her. The moment our lips touched I felt her body move closer to mine and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. Her hands found my face, and her kisses were as urgent as mine. I wanted to remember everything – the feel of her in my arms, the taste of her kisses, the sound of her breathing. I wanted to remember everything so I could never forget.

She pulled away. "We have tonight," she said. "Then Eru knows what will happen."

"I will not let you go without a fight," I told her, meaning my words. She pressed her fingers against my lips.

"I know. You are a warrior. But not all fights are easily won," she said softly.

And so we stayed on the porch, not speaking, wrapped in each other's arms for hours until the sky turned purple with the approaching dawn and Lothíriel returned to her chamber. She had fallen asleep on my shoulder, her head tucked into the crook of my neck. Her fingers clutched at my shirt, as if she would lose me before she woke. As I breathed in the scent of her hair, I remembered the night in the moonlight all those months ago. I had desperately wanted to know the girl who stood before me, hot tears drying against my skin.

"I will not give you up," I whispered into Lothíriel's hair. I would be ready for whatever battle they would drag me into, but I would not lose her. I could not. I felt the surge of energy I felt whenever I was ready for battle. And battle it would be.